


The Century Grinds On

by artamisward



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artamisward/pseuds/artamisward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is the hardest thing about being a vampire?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Century Grinds On

Carmilla feels Laura’s gaze. It’s heavy and insistent and it’s driving her to distraction. But she turns the page of the book she’s reading like she doesn’t feel Laura’s eyes boring a hole through her.

“What is the hardest thing about being a vampire?” The question is said in a rush and Laura has the decency to look sheepish after it’s out. She won’t retract it because she’s curious and she genuinely wants to know Carmilla, but she understands the intrusiveness of the question. It’s intimate and personal and a query as to Carmilla’s weakness and not her kind’s weakness as a whole.

“Drinking blood,” she replies as she turns the page, her eyes not bothering to leave the tiny print. It could be true and it isn’t completely untrue. She doesn’t particularly like the method by which she comes by her food.

Laura’s face scrunches up in thought. “Liar,” there’s a smile in her voice. Carmilla doesn’t want to say, so she knows it must be a much harder question to answer than she anticipated it being.

The vampire smiles and looks up at Laura. She’s pleased that the girl knows her so well.

* * *

Carmilla gives oblique and partial answers whenever Laura asks the question. And Laura does ask, quite often, because she is nothing if not determined and persistent.

It has become a game of sorts for them, to see who will give in first.

Laura has learned to play dirty.

“Why won’t you ever tell me?” The question is asked between kisses as Laura’s fingers trace random patterns on the inside of Carmilla’s thigh.

“Why—” Carmilla’s breath hitches as those fingers move a little higher “—ahh—does it matter?” She tries to sound casual but the breath she doesn’t need to breathe is coming short and shallow and she’s trembling waiting for the touch of Laura’s fingers to be more than aimless fluttering.

Laura stops to think on that but presses more surely at the frustrated grunt Carmilla emits. And with the beautiful, ageless being lying so open under her, Laura can’t remember why the question is important.

“What is the hardest thing about being human?” The question is breathless and it surprises Laura a little bit.

Laura wants to be flippant like Carmilla has been, but she’s looking into a hypnotic, dark gaze and she’s pressing so deeply into Carmilla that she can’t be casual about her response.

“Living,” she presses the word into Carmilla’s mouth as she pushes her over the edge.

When the tables are turned and Carmilla is the one pressing down and pushing over, she whispers a half-truth into the space between them.

“Not dying.”

* * *

The question comes with less frequency now that they’ve both asked and answered with the most honesty they could at the time. They’re on a level playing field. But, it’s not a game anymore, and they don’t treat it as such.

It’s asked again under a canopy of stars on a warm summer night.

Laura laughs when she looks over at Carmilla who seems a little embarrassed at having asked. She presses herself closer to the body next to her. She looks up at the inky blackness of night. “Dying.” The fingers interlacing hers squeeze gently.

“Living forever,” Camilla answers without the question being reciprocated.

And though they both know those aren’t the whole answer, those are their truths.

* * *

Laura doesn’t ask anymore. She knows without an answer. She sees it in the way their bodies move and in the way their reflections look in the mirror. She hears it in all the comfortable silences and in all the intimate conversations. She feels it in her heart and in her soul.

Carmilla’s answer is the very same as hers. Laura knows this though neither she nor Carmilla has ever uttered the words aloud.

They aren’t so different after all.

“Time,” Carmilla answers finally, softly, to a sleeping woman who already knows the answer to a question that’s no longer asked. “Because there is never enough of it.”


End file.
